


cleopatra

by cabriestars (cabriesun)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Clubbing, Crossdressing, Dirty Talk, M/M, One Night Stands, Semi-Public Sex, Smut, Spanking, The Author Regrets Nothing, porn with a little plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-02
Updated: 2018-04-02
Packaged: 2019-04-16 13:46:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14166189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cabriesun/pseuds/cabriestars
Summary: Shiro rejected Keith’s invitations to ‘Cleopatra’ twelve times. He stood strong in his decisions twelve times. It was a nightclub, fifteen, maybe twenty minutes maximum away from their New York City apartment. He asked, Shiro said no, expecting his best friend to take the answer and move on. But he came back every time, moving from asking, to begging, to groveling on his knees.He said yes the thirteenth time.





	cleopatra

**Author's Note:**

> **PLEASE READ ALL THE TAGS**  
>  \---
> 
> this should be named 'feed the author's kinks'...  
> i have no (some) shame...  
> but no regrets.  
> frank ocean inspired, tbh.
> 
> this one's for [ashes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AshesTheTerrible), for donating to a _worthy_ cause. the package came in today, and even though i story-timed this i'm posting in your honor :') thanks a ton
> 
> thank you to fier and cara for beta-ing!

Shiro rejected Keith’s invitations to ‘Cleopatra’ twelve times. He stood strong in his decisions twelve times. It was a nightclub, fifteen, maybe twenty minutes maximum away from their New York City apartment. He asked, and Shiro said no, expecting his best friend to take the answer and _move on_. But he came back every time, moving from asking to begging, to groveling on his knees.  
  
He said yes the thirteenth time.  
  
He willingly caved, curious to see what was so fantastic about the nightclub that got his normally mild best friend so energetic and unshakable. He figured it wouldn’t be bad to get out anyway, exercise his dating flexibility, meet new people. His tendency to stay inside always beat him when it came to socializing and mingling with other singles.  
  
No one could exactly _match_ with him. Shiro didn’t mind it and exceeded in not making a big deal out of it. He was willing to wait until he ran into someone he was fully compatible with.  
  
The night with Keith wasn’t exactly planned, and he wasn’t necessarily excited or dreading it. He was kind of just _there_.  
  
The club was busy (Keith said that's normal any day of the week), bustling with all kinds of people. Shiro was happy to see the open community and decided that maybe the night would end on a more positive outlook. He parked the car close to the back entrance, and the younger man was already tumbling out of the car excitedly. He could barely contain himself and it still bewildered Shiro. It peaked his curiosity more and more. What is it? Was there someone he didn't know about waiting in there to be introduced to him?  
  
"Keith," Shiro called out, halting the younger's excitement, "what is your deal with this place? Every time I ask, you dodge the answer."  
  
"Because it's..." Keith pursed his lips, fingertips over his chin, "it's different for everyone. It's so hard to explain, but there's this lull that captures you when you walk inside. Dormant beasts within you wake up in that club. It's called Cleopatra because I swear everyone finds their own Cleopatra inside."  
  
_Woah_. Shiro blinked, eyes still showcasing his awe, but the latter still grabbed his arm, urging him inside.  
  
"I _swear_ you'll love it."  
  
"You're swearing?"  
  
_"Yes."_  
  
Well fuck. It's not like he could disagree when Keith was so determined. The kid was stubborn, yes, but with Shiro, he was usually flexible. This 'you need to do this or I might die' attitude was something out of a book Shiro's never read.  
  
The bouncer took one look at Keith, then Shiro. One curt acknowledgment between the two of them later, and they were inside, swallowed by darkness with light illumination, courtesy of the neon lights strategically placed around the club. Upon first glance, Shiro grips Keith's arm, deathly afraid of losing him moments before he could even find the bathroom.  
  
“Are you a regular here or something?” Shiro asked as Keith lead them to the bar, not minding his friend’s unnecessarily tight grip on his arm.  
  
“The bouncer and I know each other, s’no biggie,” he smirked, glancing up at the bartender, “two shots of vodka please.”  
  
The shot glasses slammed down in front of them, Keith took his down with ease. Shiro, still experiencing some form of culture shock, swallowed his shot (though not as skillfully) and placed the glass back down on the counter.   
  
“How many times a week do you come here?”  
  
“How many times did I ask you to join me?”  
  
He pursed his lips, turning his attention away from Keith. The bodies on the floor looked enticing, to the point where he’s almost tempted to join them. The desire for that uncomfortable heat was more realistic now that he was _inside_ the club.  
  
“You come more than you’ve asked me to come. I’m positive of it.”  
  
“Either way, I got you here, didn’t I?”  
  
“Okay, okay,” Shiro waved his hand, “so what do you do? What’s so desirable about the place?”  
  
“Look around,” Keith nodded, “let the atmosphere seep into your pores.”  
  
“Ew,” Shiro shook his head, “that’s fucking ridiculous.”  
  
“What?! It’s true!”  
  
“Stop _saying_ it like that. Try again.”  
  
“Fine fine,” he sighed, “your beast needs to be awakened anyway.”  
  
“What? You sound like an advertisement.”  
  
“I haven’t seen you get out there in months.” Keith argued, “I’m sure tonight you’ll find somebody to pry you away from your... _antisocial_ tendencies.”  
  
“You’re acting like I’m a hermit,” he muttered as Keith called the bartender over.  
  
“Another two shots,” he winked at her. Shiro’s eyebrows rose. Who _was this person?_ Because it certainly wasn’t his Keith.  
  
“Keith, did you just _wink?_ ”  
  
“Yeah?” he responded, downing another shot like it was water, “What of it?”  
  
“You don’t _wink_. You don’t flirt, you don’t—“  
  
“Not out there,” he pointed towards the door, “but in _here_ , all the cards are on the table.”  
  
Shiro sat back against the bar counter, bewildered. He watched as Keith fraternized, reuniting with people he’s probably known for months. Maybe he was _right_ …  
  
“No no, fuck that.” He muttered, turning and requesting another shot.  
  
Shiro spent the next hour or so observing the masses, taking note of the trends and what he liked and disliked. People approached him every once in awhile, trying to talk him up. They were intriguing, certainly. Characters that displayed different colors, all of them unique. But they just _weren’t for Shiro._  
  
He still wasn’t sure what Keith meant when he was told that going to Cleopatra meant awakening the beast. He also didn’t like it when he said that’s Shiro’s beast needed to be awakened. But after his fourth shot and a swivel of his barstool, the pieces started to fall together like wildfire.  
  
Shiro spotted him across the room, far away from where he currently sat at the bar, but the way he was walking parted bodies like the Red Sea. A lissome figure complementing his electrifying presence, and god Shiro might have been far but he could feel every part of his body bursting for his attention. He needed more.  
  
“Keith,” He muttered, smacking his shoulder harshly, “Keith. Keith!”  
  
"Yeah? Yeah, what?" He turned his attention away from the conversation he was having.  
  
"Who is that?"  
  
Keith followed his finger resting on his lower stomach, eyes landing on the tall glass of water making his way through the club. He isn't familiar in the slightest, and Shiro can tell when his face contorts.  
"I... I don't know..." He responded, resting a hand on Shiro's knee to steady himself, "I've never seen him before. He must be a newbie, like you."  
  
Shiro doesn't tear his eyes away as he leaned on the bar counter directly across from him, ass poking out of his shorts as he converses with the man behind the counter, a flirtatious glimmer in his eye. Possessiveness bubbles in Shiro's core. He's not used to it.  
  
_The beast._  
  
"Are you interested?" Keith brings him from his trance, playfully nudging his shoulder, "Because this isn't high school. Go up to him if you want to."  
  
With the way he's becoming more unstable by second, he's going to have to go up to the man sooner or later. Even from distance, it's hard to miss the delicious thighs and calves that trail down from that obviously _irresistible_ ass. Shiro's got such a thing for legs, and he almost forgot after all this time.  
  
"I'll be right back," he said, probably barely audible over the loud music. It's a mission he's not willing to fail, laser-focused on the man as he crosses the room, ignoring the bodies that once intrigued him. They were colorful, sure, but whoever this person across the room was could be the whole fucking rainbow, probably filled with other hues that people had yet to discover.  
  
The tempo of the song changed, slow and sexual as soon as Shiro takes his last step. He's directly behind him now, sliding to the side so he can sit on the bar stool beside his lean lanky figure. Up close, he can see brunette locks and striking blue eyes, even in the darkness of the venue. The shorts look impossibly tighter plastered on his body, plain white t-shirt complimenting the outfit. He knew how to dress, how to draw attention where he wanted the attention to be. Shiro couldn't tear his eyes away from his backside, even as he glanced back up to admire his other features. The boy was something else; and when he turned to face Shiro, he had _no_ clue what to say or do. The playful innocence in his eyes quenched the flames of his beast, at the moment.  
  
"Hey."  
  
Smooth like velvet. That's what his voice sounded like. It rung out above the music and the crowds and all the general noise that just _didn't matter._  
  
"Hey," Shiro exhaled as he spoke, trying to play it as cool as possible, "what brings you here?"  
  
He wasn't smooth like velvet, no. That was never his forte.  
  
“What brings anyone to these places? Just looking for a little excitement.”  
  
“Likewise,” his feet rested on the ground as he leaned on his open palm.  
  
"Got a name, handsome?"  
  
_God_ , Shiro loved the sound of that.  
  
"I do. You?" He decided to play this little game, see how far he can get before one of them snaps. Maybe it'll be him, maybe it'll be the brunette. He didn’t know, and the thrill of it was driving him _wild_.  
  
He hummed, sliding closer to where Shiro so casually sat, "You know I do. What do I call you?"  
  
A hand fell on his knee, and the latter fights his urge to take that hand and inch it further up his leg, somewhere where he _needed_ attention.  
  
"Takashi," He stated, "but my friends call me Shiro."  
  
"So I can make myself a friend and call you Shiro, or I can call you Takashi, and leave it up in the air..." He murmured, devilishly reaching for his glass and took a long sip.  
  
"Whatever you want..." Shiro responded, obviously entranced by the young man tugging at his strings like a puppeteer, "but I have yet to catch your name."  
  
"Never threw it," He smirked, "but it's Lance since you're so intrigued."  
  
"Yet you're probably wondering why..."  
  
"I can take a guess."  
  
He turned, body fully presented to Shiro now. The neon LEDs were changing colors continuously now, and he could identify caramel skin, freckled across his chest that was exposed thanks to the dip his shirt. Showcasing his daring demeanor, he took a step in between Shiro's legs, hips brushed his parted thighs. Shiro drew a breath in, attention merely focused on the man that was obviously not afraid of being forward. Fingernails dig into his meaty thighs as Lance trained his electric eyes on him, dragging them _exactly_ where he wanted them to go. Shiro's teeth peek out to dig into his bottom lip. Lance lifts himself up, casually placing himself on the section of the barstool the man's position left open to him.  
  
"Am I right?" He asked, arching his back to whisper into Shiro's ear, and _wow_ he's flexible, bracing himself on his thighs, slowly falling apart in hands, "I _feel_ like I am..."  
  
Unsure of himself and how far he can allow himself to tread before he snaps, his hands (useless at the moment) hovered above Lance's hips as they swivel against his groin, slow and sensual to the point where he seems to know _exactly_ how to break him.  
  
"You can touch me," Lance granted him permission, taking his massive hands and placing them delicately against his hips, "I won't break.”  
  
So Shiro held on for dear life, loving the way each turn and twist of his body pressed into his palm. He's definitely been around the block a few times, it's undeniable at this point. Lance's smirk has yet to falter, choosing to widen when he begins to grind down sinfully into Shiro's lap. He's got _no_ shame, the heat between the two of them increasing as Shiro finds himself leaning back, bucking his hips up rhythmically into Lance's ass. He felt the vibration of Lance's hum, looking up through hooded eyes to see the man bite down on his lip seductively. The luminescent glow of the lights gave his aura an extra burn, one that added to his libido and the wild desire dripping off of him.  
  
He was at his wit's end, perky ass up in his business, shorts riding up in the most painfully teasing manner. The young man really had no _shame_ , riling both of them up in such a public place. His ass dragged from his slowly hardening cock, sinking down to where his feet stood cemented in the ground. Lance dared to look back, a devilish twinkle in his eyes as he stood back up, preparing himself to walk away.  
  
There was no _way_ he was leaving. Shiro wasn't going to let him get away after a performance as endearing and seducing as that.  
  
Lance prepares his sexy escape only to be gripped and pulled back by Shiro. He doesn’t seem phased in the slightest, reveling in the fact that he seemed to have awoken a beast through his coy flirtatious mannerisms.  
  
“Hm?” He smirked knowingly, “Not done with me yet?”  
  
“Not in the slightest,” he murmured close to his ear, biting down on his every word. He’s positive Lance heard him over the thumping of the base, as his arm tenses in his hold.  
  
“Excited?” Shiro dared to push further and is pleased he did as a fragile hand reaches out to grip his wrist firmly, pressing it to the twenty-year-old’s pulsing hard cock.  
  
“More than you think,” he growled, and Shiro grinned.  
  
He certainly would be thanking Keith for this.  
  
“Where do you wanna go?”  
  
“We don’t have to go _anywhere_ , big boy.”  
  
_Oh, that did things to him_.  
  
“What was that?”  
  
“All we gotta do,” Lance pointed above him, motioning to the second story, “is go where no one can see us.”  
  
And Shiro would be a fucking _liar_ if he said he didn’t absolutely adore the idea of fucking Lance silly in public.  
  
“Lead the way.”  
  
Lance took his hand, his slender frame slotting itself through the hordes of bodies. Shiro followed, less gracefully, but followed nonetheless. He’s too entranced by the energy coming off of the walking wet dream to consider the people around him. He spotted Keith flirting with a tall dark man himself and remains relieved that his friend found his own interests to attend to.  
  
It was less for Shiro to worry about as the pair clambered up the stairs to the second story of the nightclub. There, couples stood staggered against walls, wrapped in their own little worlds. His eyes fell to Lance and his cock twitched in anticipation. _That was going to be him in mere moments_.  
  
It only took a few seconds to find a place secluded enough to get as filthy as they pleased, and it only took a few more seconds for Shiro to back Lance into a corner and crash their lips together in a searing kiss.  
  
Lance’s fingertips clasped the hands that cradle his face, legs practically trembling as Shiro pressed his cock against his thigh.  
  
“You feel that?” He growled, “You _feel_ me?”  
  
“Ah, yes,” His voice was masked with a desperate hoarse whisper.  
  
“You knew _exactly_ what you were doing, didn’t you? Knew exactly how to get me here…”  
  
“Wanted your cock since I saw you walk in—a- _oh…”_  
  
Lance’s sentence met its’ end at the hand of yet another powerful kiss overtaking him.  
  
_The beast was out._ Overtaking him, devouring the Shiro that stood timidly at the bar behind Keith's shadow. He felt like a new man, arousal fighting to burst out of its well-kept cage. He wanted to take Lance by the waist, push him against the wall and _devour_ him, taste every single flavor of the young man that successfully seduced him into doing _anything_ that would satisfy the two of them.  
  
His cock pushed against the constraints of his pants, panting into Lance's mouth as he parted his lips, allowing his tongue to slip in. Lance's mouth was sweet like bubble gum, hints of the alcohol he was drinking prior to their meeting still fresh on his lips. His hands push him further onto the wall, splitting from his lips the moment Lance's toned leg trails up his side.  
  
Looking down at him, shit-eating smirk still painted on his features, Shiro recognizes that there's a lot more up Lance's sleeve. That there was more sex appeal underneath whatever layers he had initially presented to him.  
  
"What else have you got planned?" He grunted, a hand palming his rock hard roughly. Lance had certainly prepared for this, beyond what Shiro had assumed.  
  
"You've got hands," he responded coyly, "use them."  
  
So he did, forcing Lance to turn around by the hips, hands roaming to the plump ass he'd been admiring from afar all night.   
  
"So fucking _gorgeous_ ," he murmured, a teasing hand reaching up to run his hands underneath the shirt sticking to Lance's back, "they might as well have named the club after you, darling."  
  
"Mmm," Lance gasped in front of him, purposely pushing his rear further into Shiro's palm, "only for you..."  
  
Possessiveness racked Shiro's body like a tidal wave as he impulsively reached down to smack his right cheek, massaging the spot shortly after. A moan slipped from Lance's lips, arching his back even _further_ into Shiro's touch.  
  
"Like that?" He growled, leaning down and biting the skin underneath the shelf of his ass, "you're gonna like it a lot more when I take off these tiny little shorts."  
  
"You're gonna like it too," Lance grinned, winking cheekily as Shiro tugged at the waistband of his shorts, pulling them down slowly only for Lance's claim to be proven correct. He _sure as hell_ liked it too.  
  
Red lace panties lined his bare ass, tight in all the right places and form fitted along his waistline.  
  
_Fuck_.  
  
What a fucking sight. He pressed his lips on the scandalous article of clothing, marveling in the way Lance mewled above him. He couldn't even think about his cock begging to be released, the latter’s presence to powerful, too demanding.  
  
All of his attention remained on Lance; teasing Lance, worshiping Lance, making _Lance_ feel good. His fingers digging into the meat of his thighs would certainly leave bruises, but all the more for him to remember who did this to him. Who the man fucking him _speechless_ in the back of a nightclub was.   
  
“You’re _too_ good,” he growled, standing up and reaching to rip his top off, “and you know you are.”  
  
“Who am I if I don’t know myself,” Lance winked, but gasped when he was suddenly pushed down by Shiro’s lone hand. Hungrily, he watched as Shiro unbuckled his pants, the clothes pooling by his ankles.  
  
“Take your shirt off too,” he purred, “I wanna see your body...”  
  
Shiro obliged, tossing his shirt off effortlessly with the rest of his clothes. With his top out of the way, Shiro stood stark naked before Lance, who was eating up every inch of his body.  
  
“You’re so _sexy_ ,” he grinned, “god, I can’t wait for you to be inside of me.”  
  
“Not yet,” Shiro sighed above him, the thought of being inside of Lance wet pulsing heat sending him to another planet, “not yet...you’re not done yet.”  
  
“What did I do wrong?” He pouted, batting his eyelashes until his innocence is replaced with a sultry excitement, Shiro’s cock standing long and hard before him.  
  
“You did nothing wrong,” Shiro raised his eyebrows, “but I wanna feel that pretty little mouth first.”  
Lance winked knowingly, sticking his tongue out and lapping up Shiro’s precum, the curiosity of his size eventually driving him to take the tip first at an agonizing pace. Shiro moaned, the sensation too much for the first time before Lance pops off of him, stroking experimentally.  
  
“God,” Shiro sighed, “more...”  
  
“Mhm,” Lance took more of him in his mouth, sucking his cheeks in and bobbing his head back and forth. Shiro tried not to fuck into his mouth, he tried _so hard_ , but there was something magical down there that just couldn’t keep Shiro away from his temptations.   
  
Promptly, he snatched a fistful of Lance’s hair and bucked inside of his mouth, biting down and squeezing his eyes shut as soon as he saw the bulge in his throat. The brunette gripped his thighs with both his hands as Shiro takes the wheel, fucking past his lips sloppily.  
  
His thrusts quickened as he reached his end, the desire to keep things going further suddenly gone as his orgasm built up quickly. Shiro barely had time to warn Lance before he was shooting hot cum down his pretty little throat. He pulled out, stroking himself through as some of his release spurt out on Lance’s lips, visibly red in the low light.  
  
“Oh _fuck_ yes,” he growled, weak in the knees as soon as he opens his eyes to Lance licking his lips, danger in his eyes.  
  
“I hope you can go again,” Lance stood, turning again, “it’d just be bad manners if you left this ass hanging.”  
  
Shiro was dying, the game they were playing already bringing his erection back. With less doubtful hands, he reaches down, gripping his ass once more and kneading the lace fabric in his hands, snapping the waistband against his burning skin. Lance pressed his thighs together, lip caught between his teeth as he looks back at Shiro.  
  
“Take them off,” he begged, “ _Please..._ ”  
  
“Why would I do that when you look so perfect in them,” he questioned, blinking up at him as if he had no intentions to rip the one article of clothing blocking him from his tight, wet heat.  
  
“ _Kashi_ ,” he moaned softly, “please...”  
  
“Say my name again.”  
  
Another smack on his ass had Lance mewling, hiding his face in what Shiro almost assumes is a feeling of embarrassment.   
  
“Takashi,” he practically sobbed, “please take my panties off.”  
  
“Well, when you put it _that_ way.”  
  
Desperate fingers reach to drag is underwear down, watching pleasantly as the fabric pools by his ankles. Lance stepped out of them, presenting his ass like forbidden fruit.  
“Promise I’ll appreciate these on my own time,” Shiro murmured, taking them and stuffing them into the back pocket of his jeans.  
  
“Mmm,” Lance bit down harder on his lip, watching as Shiro reaches into his wallet for a condom.  
  
“Lube?”  
  
“Got it covered, princess.”  
  
The nickname isn’t meant to come out, but Lance’s eyes cross and a light gasp leaves his lips and suddenly it was all intentional.  
  
“Like that?” He grinned, spreading a generous amount of lube on his fingers, “ _Jesus_ , you’re so good for me.”  
  
“Do it,” Lance begged, sticking his ass out, “stretch me, can’t wait to take that big cock.”  
“You and me both,” Shiro growled, prodding the first finger in without warning. The younger gasps, clenching around his finger and scratching the wall he’s pressed against.  
  
“Fuck, Shiro...”  
  
“I thought we weren’t friends?”  
  
“Ta _kashi_ ,” he begged, pushing down for more friction, “keep going, please keep going.”  
Shiro massaged his cheek, steadily fucking him with his finger and enjoying the twitch of his cock with every moan, especially when he added in a second, and then a third finger.  
  
He chose to pull out when Lance was putty in his hands, jaw slack and speechless. After leaving him empty, he licks his fingers for the latter to see, lube mixed with his thick juices smearing his tongue.  
  
“Ready for me, princess?”  
  
“Yes Kashi,” he sighs, “fuck me, wreck me, _ruin_ me, god take my body and—“  
  
“So _desperate_ ,” It was Shiro’s turn to grin evilly as he slipped the condom down his cock, hard once more at the sight of Lance. He took the small bottle of lube out again, spreading it on his cock and stroking himself. It had been so long since he had sex, and he honestly wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. There was something about Lance, his confidence, his body, his outward attitude, that made Shiro want to give him the damn _world_ , and more if he could.  
  
He could see this progressing from their single night in the club, but for now, his cock was crying out, needy for attention, and he was depending on Lance to give it that attention.  
  
Shiro took his time sinking into him, practically hypnotized by how Lance’s hole felt around him. He was tight in all the right places, holding him in this _spell_ he never wanted to be broken.  
  
Lance’s weak plea to go faster was what brought Shiro out of his trance, thrusting wildly into him as if his life depended on it. He felt almost animalistic but he craved more of it, desired it like the oxygen he needed to breathe. Lance was his oxygen, his rainbow, the _bane_ of his existence. He managed to drag out the beast that he had so carefully tamed, under the impression that it was never meant to leave its cage. But Lance showed him that he was meant to embrace it, through _him_.  
  
And perhaps it was the libido talking, but Shiro wanted to live vivaciously through that feeling over and over again.  
He came for a second time, shooting his load into the condom, still thrusting with wild reckless abandon as Lance followed shortly, coming untouched and in ropes onto the wall. Both of them heaved rapidly, searching desperately for air as they came down from their practically simultaneous highs.  
  
Shiro bent over Lance’s back, kissing softly before turning the now exhausted man around, pressing their lips together sweetly. The brunette hummed in his mouth, fingertips weakly combing his hair.  
  
“Please tell me I can have your number after this,” he whispered against his trembling mouth, “forgive me for being too forward, but you’re absolutely _stunning_...”  
  
“You’re not so bad yourself, stud,” Lance grinned lazily, nuzzling his nose against his and kissing him once more, “but if it’s just for my body, I’m not sure we can keep this going.”  
  
“I’d love to know more about you,” Shiro said quickly, “your presence is entrancing. Even if we went out for milkshakes instead of coming up here, I’d still ask for your number at the end of the night.”  
  
“Really, now?”  
  
“I wouldn’t be able to live knowing I didn’t.”  
  
Lance hummed, pointing to his discarded shorts with his foot, “Phone’s in my pocket.”  
  
Shiro smiled, reaching down, retrieving it, and handing it to him promptly. The two of them exchanged phone numbers, texting each other then and there to avoid any post interaction awkwardness. They began to get dressed shortly afterward.  
  
“So, you uh, mentioned something about milkshakes?” Lance brought up the past topic as he pulls his shorts up. Shiro admired how tight they fit around his cute little ass before replying.  
  
“Yeah?”  
  
“Is that offer still up?”  
  
“Of course,” he replied almost immediately, “milkshakes and whatever you want, on me.”  
  
“I know a place,” Lance smiled shyly, and Shiro’s heart swelled at the sight of prominent dimples, highlighted by the LEDs.  
  
“I’ll take us there,” he could feel the blush creeping up his already flushed cheeks, “want your panties?”  
  
“Mmm,” the man tapped his chin, picking up his shirt and pulling it over his head before ruffling his curly hair, “you can keep them.”  
  
Shiro grinned, stuffing them back in his back pocket before throwing his shirt over his head and grabbing his wallet and keys.  
  
“Ready to go?”  
  
“Are you?” Lance, with a dazzling smile, grabbed his hand and pulled them towards the stairwell, “You’re in for it, Takashi.”  
  
Yeah, Lance was _all_ the colors. His own fucking Cleopatra.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading / indulging my kinks :))))  
> hopefully i can get comfortable to the point where i can write more things like this woooo
> 
> you can follow my tumblr [sheith-keef](https://sheith-keef.tumblr.com/) here, and the main page for [shiro loves you baby](https://shirolovesyou-baby.tumblr.com/) here.


End file.
